Short Sheeted

Twenty five years of marriage, and he still can't get it right.

You made up my mind,
but you didn't make my bed.
Twenty five years, you'd think
You'd have it in your head

To do what is expected
To do what is right.
To make up the bed
Make it ready for night.

And so, therefore,
It's short on your side
I made it once more,
The joke's all mine.

Of course, I didn't think,
in the middle of the night
You'd end up with sheets
and I'd be uptight.

My butt is exposed
and I am shivering.
The joke is on me
for even believing

That I could get you back
for this one small discretion.
I'll think of something else
to teach you a lesson.